


Heart to Heart

by time_traveling_hufflepuff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Heart-to-Heart, Johnlock Subtext, Mycroft is not Omnisicient, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Assault, Sherlock Holmes Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/time_traveling_hufflepuff/pseuds/time_traveling_hufflepuff
Summary: After hearing an argument between Sherlock and Mycroft, John pressures Sherlock to explain what he said just before Mycroft stormed out, after Sherlock reminded his brother that he doesn't know everything about Sherlock's life, especially what occurred during his drug-addled times in his twenties.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Heart to Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is my first fanfic posted on AO3. I’ve been writing them since I was 12 for a variety of fandoms, but I’ve decided to actually start posting some just to have a place to store them as well as a reason to finish some of which I’ve had drafts for literal ages. I’m not sold on everything, but it was something sitting around I thought I should just finish and be done with for now. I’m trying to start by posting small to get some larger ones out in the future. It is also past midnight and while I should probably wait until morning to do my last checks and post it since I am tired, I just want to be done with this. I like coming up with story ideas and headcanons, but ugh writing is hard! This is dedicated to my wonderful friend who kept pushing me to just post something.

“So, um, Sherlock. What was that your brother was on about earlier?”

“Shush, thinking. It’s my turn.” Sherlock leaned forward on their kitchen table with his fingers spread over each of his temples, carefully analyzing the chess game in front of him. His lanky fingers plucked a white rook and moved it three spaces forward.

“Sherlock,” John paused. “You’re not playing anyone.”

“I’m playing myself, now it’s my turn again would you shush for a moment.” Sherlock turned the chess board around and he studied the game from the black side. He slid the black queen across the board, before turning the board again and leaning in closer to study the white pieces.

John rolled his eyes as Sherlock captured the black queen with a white pawn. “Who is winning?”

“Evidently, I am, John. It’s not a matter of winning or losing, it’s a matter of strategy… and… checkmate.” He slid a black knight into its queen’s former position. “Some sacrifices appear small but they are the downfall in the end. Mycroft has never learned to grasp that concept.” He stood up from the table and made his way towards the living room.

John nodded absentmindedly. “Uh huh. But speaking of Mycroft, what was he on about? You know, earlier? He said that thing about Eurus and knowing best and then he stormed out after you said something about him knowing nothing about _that time_? What’s that time?”

Sherlock held up a hand and let himself flop into his armchair. “I was simply reminding Mycroft that he presumes to know so much more about me than he actually does. Just because he was the only one out of the two of us to remember Eurus does not mean he knows more about my own life than I do.” He took a deep breath. “In actuality we fell out of contact for several years in my early twenties. He likes to pretend he knows what went down, but there isn’t a lot of government surveillance in crack houses.”

“Oh. So, what doesn’t he know about you?”

Sherlock hesitated.

“The apartment isn’t bugged anymore, remember? We checked.”

“Yes, I’m well aware. Annoying things really, such as whether or not I’ve had sex, or the extent of my knowledge on various subjects. He is always so kind as to point out his intelligence compared to mine. He’s mummy and daddy’s golden child with a fancy job and I’m a self-employed junkie disappointment.”

“Jesus. Your family needs to get out more, Sherlock, and see what most people are like.”

“Mycroft? Leave his house for something other than work or to bother me?” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “He lives for his fancy suits and government secrets.”

The two men sat in silence for a few moments, listening to Mrs. Hudson’s radio drift up the stairs.

“So, have you?” John inquired, tilting his head towards Sherlock.

“Have I what? John I simply do not have time today to answer silly questions.”

“You’re lying on the couch.”

“Yes, and if you’re going to start asking silly questions, I will begin a high stakes research project. My availability is subject to change.”

John sighed. “Surely you’re smart enough to _deduce_ what I’m asking Sherlock,” John held up his hands. “I’m just curious. We’ve only bloody lived together for almost a decade, it’s not a weird thing for me to know. But you know what, you’re avoiding talking like you always do. Which is fine, by the way. I get it. You’re Sherlock Homes and you’re beyond the human impulse of sex.”

Sherlock glanced sharply at John who was crossing his arms. “You’re not going to let this go until you receive a sufficient answer. Fine.” Sherlock stood up to move to the window and turned back towards John. “One, it’s not a human impulse – people believe sex makes us human when nearly every other species uses the act for both procreation and enjoyment. Two, there are humans who simply do not desire sex and are proud of that identity which a quick internet search would actually show you. And three, I am not one of those people and I have had sex in case you were wondering though I don’t know why that would be a question you would need so badly answered.” He turned away from the window back towards John. “Was that the answer you wanted?”

John raised his eyebrows and blinked several times in succession. “Wow, Sherlock. I’m actually… surprised.”

“Yes, well. It’s really not a matter of which I feel has much importance. The significance we place on virginity and sexual partners is arbitrary.”

There was silence in the room for a moment. Mrs. Hudson’s music once again became audible.

“So, who was it?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Does it even matter? It’s been a while so you wouldn’t know them.”

“Oh, I would have thought… Irene Adler? Or Janine?”

Sherlock shook his head. “No. Neither of them.” He offered no further information and sank back down into his chair, leaning back with his fingers spread and hands touching.

John sighed. “Sherlock, it’s honestly fine if you don’t want to tell me. I know being human or whatever embarrasses you.” He walked towards the kitchen. “I’m making a cuppa do you want one?”

“John.”

“Yes?” John paused and turned.

“I’m not embarrassed to be human.” He tightened his jaw.

“Oh?”

“Yes, perhaps tea would be nice, John. It really is that time of day isn’t it. Amazing how such an ancient drink has lasted through the years. Actually, most people assume –”

“Sherlock!”

“Hm?”

John’s brow furrowed. “You’re changing the subject. I’ll start the tea, and then you can tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me,” Sherlock muttered. But he slunk further down in his chair and was silent as John prepared the tea.

Several minutes later the kettle began to whistle, and John carefully poured it out. He carried a tray to their seating area and set it on the table between their chairs.

John looked at Sherlock expectantly.

“We’ve…” Sherlock began looking over his tea at John. “We’ve never actually talked about it, but surely you realize I am gay.”

John’s mouth opened. “I had thought… Oh. Jesus now I’ve made an ass of myself – I really thought you and Irene… I mean I think at first I assumed, but you said no.”

Sherlock held up his hand. “No. _I_ told you I was married to my work and you assumed I was saying I had no interest in ever pursuing a relationship with anyone. Of course, at that time it was true, but that didn’t mean it held true in the future or the past.”

“Huh?”

Sherlock sighed. “I was too engrossed in my work at the time to be interested in relationships, and – as you probably were well aware – I didn’t have too many friends at the time anyway. But my lack of friendships then doesn’t mean I am not open to relationships should they arise now or that I haven’t experienced sexual intercourse in the past – which I have.”

John grinned, “So did you have a boyfriend in college, or…?”

Sherlock nodded. “I did actually. His name was Simon. We dated for about a year before he broke it off. His family was quite religious and we had a close call during which his sister nearly discovered us. It terrified him so that the next day he broke it off and began dating Sara - a girl who had been pining over him for weeks. He married that girl the next year. He runs a business now, has two kids, and pretends we were never involved.”

“Jesus, Sherlock. I’m sorry that must have sucked.”

“Yes, well. Humans have been deluding themselves with ideas of what is holy and righteous through religion for millenniums.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. You can’t analyze away bad things that happen in your life.”

“Even if it makes them hurt less?”

John crinkled his forehead. He opened his mouth and then closed it. “No. I don’t know. God, I feel like even more of an ass now. I’m sorry I pressured you into talking – “

“No, don’t.” Sherlock looked at John with an emotional intensity in his eyes. “I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t at least partially want to share. You’ve… been my best friend for years now and talking to you… it brings a calm into my life I so rarely experience on my own.”

“I-I’m touched, Sherlock.”

“Yes, well,” he said. “It’s true.” The room was silent for a moment. “There is one more time I would like to discuss, John. Or possibly multiple times depending on classification. It’s about _that time_ that Mycroft mentioned. There are some names and faces I remember, John, but beyond incomprehensible memories I have little to go on. During periods of time in which I would frequent various crackhouses around the city, I would come down from highs sometimes with absolutely no recollection of previous events. There were times I had sex; that much was evident from…various signs on my body, but I really couldn’t say what happened. They were almost definitely men, based on a balance of probability and considering most women couldn’t have done what they did. I have no idea if I consented. I’ve tried searching my memories to no avail.”

“Jesus. Sherlock, I’m sorry-”

“No, John. Don’t apologize. It’s in the past and I wanted to share. You know more about me than anyone, with the exception of perhaps Mycroft. Though even he doesn’t know what I got up to back then. As I said we lost contact for a bit, but he also wasn’t as adamant about watching me until he realized how badly I had let things spiral." Sherlock paused. "I've been checked for diseases. I'm clean. I know you worry as a doctor. I'm fine."

"Physically fine? Or emotionally fine?"

Sherlock hesitated and stared at the carpet. "Both? It was a while ago. The most uncomfortable part about it is the memories I can't seem to find. I like to think of my brain as infallible, but it has failed me on this instance." He looked up at John. "I'm telling you all of this, John, because I trust you. More than anyone. You've been my rock and my best friend and I know I haven't always met my end of the bargain, but you mean the world to me, John."

John blinked heavily and swallowed. “I know neither of us are exceedingly physically affectionate, but in this instance… could I come give you a hug?”

Sherlock smiled slightly and nodded. “For you, John Watson, anytime.”


End file.
